


My Body Is A Cage

by ismyvoodooworking (coloursflyaway)



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, M/M, basically just porn and nothing else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/ismyvoodooworking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this amazing prompt on hobbit-kink.livejournal.com:</p><p>Aidan can't orgasm without prostate stimulation. His new boyfriend isn't really aware of this yet. One day during filming said boyfriend decides to pull Aidan off somewhere for a couple of handjobs. In the mist of his frustration/pleasure, Aidan tries to communicate his little problem to his partner (or maybe partner works it out for himself, up to the author). Aidan's boyfriend is ridiculously turned on by this little quirk and fingers Aidan into oblivion, with copious amounts of dirty talk. :)</p><p>+1000 for choked up/gaspy/whiny Aidan trying to get his point across: "My ass-...I can't, without-..." Cue boyfriend's moment of revelation like "Oooooh...OOOOH! Holy shit, that's hot."</p><p>I'm pretty open to pairings, though it be nice to see something other than the usual Dean or Richard as Aidan's boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Body Is A Cage

When Richard finally pushes a long, perfect leg between Aidan’s, presses it upwards against his hardening cock, it’s impossible to keep the moans, the whimpers from spilling from Aidan’s lips. Of course, he should be silent, Aidan knows that, because it’s just lunch break and the only thing separating them from the rest of the world is the thin metal wall of his trailer and people could hear, but it’s too good, too dangerous…and somewhere along the lines, Aidan catches himself thinking that maybe he wouldn’t mind it, having everyone know that he’s claimed the older actor for his own.

  
But those thoughts should be reserved for different times, when there isn’t a hot mouth on the side of his neck, not daring to leave permanent marks, but still sucking and nibbling on his skin. Once again, Aidan curses their wigs, their costumes, because while he is sure that they will look great on screen, they’re just so damned impractical when you need to get them off, and need to be quick about it, too.  
Rocking against Richard’s leg, he tries to pull the other up and into a kiss, but fails since he can’t thread his fingers into the wig as he would need to; Richard chuckles against his skin for a moment before he gives in and returns to Aidan’s lips, kissing him hungrily.  
  
There is hardly anything left from the awkwardness of the first kiss they had shared two weeks ago, all exhaustion and the anonymity of the darkness in a trailer while no one else was around…when one thing had led to another, until they had both collapsed next to each other, bathed in sweat and the sweetness of a shared orgasm.  
It had happened a few times since then, always in hotel rooms or when everyone else was far away, when they were safe while Richard had fingered him open, had turned him over so he could watch Aidan’s face when he came…the realisation hits him like a shock, makes him jump and the other mistakes the gasp for one born from pleasure and presses his leg higher, rolling his hips against Aidan’s, making any sound but a high whine impossible. The change makes it harder to concentrate, too, on why this is not a good idea, why he has to stop it before more happens, on why he should not want to have Richard’s hands travelling down his chest, noticeable even through the costume, or why the hot breath fanning out over the side of his face is a very bad thing indeed.

  
And so he notices it too late when Richard unbuttons his pants (how the other manages is a mystery to Aidan, it took him weeks to figure it out) and slides a hand inside, grasping his treacherous, half hard cock through the fabric. The start of his warning ( _No, Richard, not now, not here, we can’t_ ) never quite makes it past his lips, instead turns into a moan, long and low and his lover grins when he finally tears his lips from the side of Aidan’s neck again. Richard looks far too smug and far, far too good with his tousled wig, those layers of leather and cloth and fur and Aidan is a little lost for a little too long, because before he can do anything, Richard has pushed his underwear down and wrapped long, strong fingers around his cock. And Aidan keens, bucks forward, for even if it’s such a small touch, it’s wonderful and makes it hard to even keep himself upright.

  
The strokes of Richard’s hand are slow, but deliberate, almost perfect in pressure and the way he twists his wrist on every other upstroke, for even if they have just started this, somehow the other always seems to know just how to make him moan.  
And maybe, Aidan thinks, maybe this could be enough. Because he is so desperate for release already, and Richard is so, so good with his hands and mostly because it’s Richard and the other’s mere presence is enough to leaving him dizzy and wanting and raw, every single time.

  
His head falls back, his eyes slip shut and Aidan does his best to just feel, the callouses on Richard’s hands from the hours upon hours of sword fighting, the rough fabric of his lover’s sleeves which brushes against his hipbones, the friction and the sparks of pleasure which shoot up his spine when Richard brushes his thumb across his slit, increases the pressure just enough to make Aidan gasp. But apparently it’s not what Richard wants him to do, because suddenly the hand is gone for a few torturous moments, but before Aidan can do so much as complain, there is heat and wetness and thin lips stretching around his cock and Aidan wants to scream out because if Richard’s hand has felt good, than this is heaven.  
His eyes fly open, his hips buck forward without any semblance of control or grace, but it doesn’t matter because Richard just takes it, always does, with nothing but a small sound that Aidan doesn’t hear but feels; vibrations against his skin and almost unnoticeable contractions of muscles around his cock. Usually, he’d try to control himself, would let Richard coax him to let go of the bit of control he still has over his actions, but there is no time for that, and if this is to work…

  
It’s torture that they are still in costume, because Aidan’s fingers are desperate to just hold onto something, but Richard’s wig is too dangerous and the fabric of his clothes not even half as satisfying when he grips it tight, thrusts into the other’s mouth again, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of Richard’s throat. And then Richard sucks, presses his tongue upwards and Aidan loses it, uses his grip on the other’s clothes to somehow pull him forwards, forcing him to take more of his cock, and the spark in Richard’s eyes tells him that this was what his lover has wanted all along.  
And Aidan’s so close that he can feel he warmth pooling in his stomach, his balls tightening, his vision blurring…but nothing happens, no burst of pleasure, nothing. He could cry, he really could, but it wouldn’t change a thing, so instead Aidan forces himself to release his lower lips from between his teeth, gasping out a weak, “Richard, stop.”  
The other does, something that almost comes as a surprise, pulls back, wipes the back of his hand across his lips and Aidan can’t help but stare because they are swollen and red and knowing that he is the reason for it is makes it hard to breathe.

  
“You could have just come down my throat”, Richard says and Aidan isn’t sure what is worse, the rough quality of the other’s voice or the words. But whatever it is, he just shakes his head, because he couldn’t, that’s the whole problem.  
“Why? You know I wouldn’t-“  
“I can’t”, Aidan interrupts him and feels blood shoot to his cheeks, tinting them a bright pink. He doesn’t want to say this, doesn’t even want to think about it, but there is no way he can go back to the shoot like this, and frankly, no other way to explain it to Richard either, none but the truth.  
“I can’t”, he starts again, and feels himself blushing more. “Not without… I need…something.”  
He stops, hoping that Richard will somehow understand, because he has no idea how to say this, how to put it into words, but the other just stares at him, confusion written all across his face and with his cheeks burning, Aidan tries another time, because there is no other way, apparently. “Inside of me. I need… “  
There is a terrifying moment in which he isn’t sure if Richard has understood (because he does not know how he could make it any clearer without passing out), but then the confusion vanishes from the other’s features, is replaced by a strange breathlessness which Aidan has never seen before.

  
“Fuck.” It’s hardly even a word, more a moan, a gasp, and Aidan isn’t sure if he has understood correctly, but then Richard straightens his back (still on his knees, he realises, the other is still kneeling in front of him, and the thought sends a shiver down Aidan’s spine) and slowly hooks his fingers under the hem of Aidan’s pants, tugs them down. When he speaks again, his voice is even deeper, hoarser, laced with arousal and Aidan wants him more than he has ever wanted anything in his life.  
“You can’t come without someone, something fucking you, is that it?”, he asks, and Aidan chokes. “You need something inside of you, stretching you open…that’s why you were so desperate to get me to fuck you that night. Because you knew you wouldn’t be able to come otherwise.”  
There is not even a hint of a question in Richard’s voice, but Aidan nods anyway, gasps because by now, his pants are somewhere between his feet and knees, and one hand has returned to his cock, stroking slowly. He watches Richard suck two fingers into his mouth, spreading his legs almost automatically when the other moves to reach around him.

  
What he expected was to have those lovely, long, fingers shoved deep inside of him within the next few seconds, but instead Richard just presses them against his hole, rubbing them in sweet, teasing circles, but making sure never to let them slip inside. Aidan moves back against the pressure, but it’s no use.  
“So desperate already”, Richard whispers in a voice which has Aidan even more desperate within a second and intensifies the pressure against his hole until the only thing Aidan can still do is try not to moan. “You’d take my fingers just like this, wouldn’t you?”  
He nods, because hell, he’d beg if he thought that this was what Richard wanted, he’d plead, anything just to get the other to finally fuck him. “Gods, and I am sure you could take so much more than that, couldn’t you? I’m sure you have taken so much more before…tell me, how many fingers?”  
Aidan’s face is burning, and if he wasn’t just so hard he just wouldn’t answer, but the only thing he can do now is not tell the truth and hope that somehow, Richard will believe him.

  
He doesn’t.  
Instead, he chuckles and rubs his fingers harder over sensitive skin, lets the tips sink in just enough to leave Aidan wanting even more. “Four? Oh darling. I watched you take four and you were still begging for more.”  
The thing is that Richard can see right through him, and for once Aidan hates that. “Five”, he gasps, moans out and squeezes his eyes shut because he needs this, and by now, he’s willing to do about anything, as long as it means that those terrible, teasing fingers are going to fulfil what they have been promising the entire time. “Fuck, Richard, five, his entire hand…could take yours too, want to one day, just…just please.”  
The words come out as something between a gasp and a groan, desperate and breathless and it’s so, so hard not to reach behind and either force Richard’s fingers inside of him or just use his own.  
But then Aidan looks down, finds the other’s gaze and even his hips stop moving back against the pressure, everything stops, because Richard’s eyes are dark and hungry and possessive and completely focussed on him.

  
It’s almost too much, almost more than Aidan can take, the moan caught in his throat. And for a few moments nothing happens, but then, with a growl, Richard thrusts his fingers inside of him with one, fluid motion and Aidan almost screams out. It should be too much, and it should hurt and he should be biting his lips to keep himself from moaning out in pain, but while there is a certain stretch, a burn, the relief is far more intense, and fuck, it feels so good.  
He can’t moan, isn’t allowed to, and it’s torture because Richard is twisting his fingers in the best way possible, rubbing the pads along his insides and even though the other hasn’t yet found his prostate (or is deliberately avoiding it, Aidan doesn’t know) the friction alone is close to finally pushing him over the brink.

  
“Could you come from this alone?”, Richard asks in that tone which always makes Aidan shiver, dark and smooth and this time, he does moan out because the other presses until he can feel his knuckles against his skin. There is hardly any movement, as if Richard was determined to make him suffer as long as possible, but then those lovely fingers brush against his prostate and the only reason why Aidan stays more or less silent is because his lips aren’t sure if they want to moan or gasp or sob out in pleasure. “Just from my fingers, just from the friction…you could, couldn’t you? They’d be enough, just my fingers, at least as long as I kept them against your prostate.”  
And even if Aidan could still speak, he couldn’t deny it, because he is already so, so close from the few moments of stimulation and he knows that, if Richard keeps this up, he’ll come just like this, with two fingers inside of him and nothing else and it will be so good. He nods frantically, because if he doesn’t answer Richard won’t grant him even this, and if that was to happen, Aidan might just die.  
The fingers are not even moving, just resting against his prostate, sometimes varying the pressure a little, just enough to make sure Aidan can’t forget about them in any case, and maybe he breaks just a bit, since suddenly there are words rushing out of his mouth, jumbled together and hardly making sense, a plea which consists mostly of Richard’s name and pleasepleasepleaseplease.  
“Good little slut”, Richard growls darkly and it has to have been exactly what the other wanted, because he finally shows some mercy  
First, it’s just the fingers inside of Aidan which start moving, rubbing slow, torturous, wonderful circles and by the time Richard’s other hand starts stroking his cock in time with the motions of his fingers, Aidan is almost begging again.

  
It’s not rushed, not hurried and rough (although that would be just what Aidan needed right now, hard thrusts and calloused fingers which grip just a little too hard) and yet he takes this gladly, moves back in a feeble attempt to somehow get Richard to just fuck him, even if only with his fingers. And he might have succeeded, but then the other is smirking up at him, stroking his cock once more before leaning in and sucking the head into his mouth, lingering for a little while just swirling his tongue around, teasing his slit. Aidan is trying his best to just feel –because who know what Richard would do if he didn’t, maybe he’d stop- but then the other pulls his fingers out, twists them and shoves them back at a different angle which has them brushing directly across his prostate, hard and fast, and there is no way he can take this and stay still. Without thinking, Aidan’s hips snap forward, burying his cock deep inside of Richard’s throat, knowing he can take it, that he probably wants to, and really, the other doesn’t move, only plunges his fingers inside of him again, and Aidan can’t hold back the low moan escaping his lips, can’t even stop himself from gripping the fabric of the other’s costume harder, until his knuckles have turned white.  
None of it matters, though, because this is perfect in every way, Richard is perfect in the way he fucks and is fucked at the same time, how he moans around Aidan’s cock and when Aidan feels his orgasm drawing closer this time, it is with even more intensity, maybe more than ever before.

  
For one second, he almost pulls back, but then he remembers the offer Richard had made before, and fuck, it’s too tempting not to take. And he wants to, wants to spill his seed down the other’s throat, wants to watch Richard choke on his come, wants it to stain his lips when Richard pulls back… And the thought of it is what pushes him over the edge, the thought and a particularly rough thrust of Richard’s fingers.  
His vision doesn’t whiten out, only grows blurry around the edges, Aidan’s mind completely overtaken with pleasure as he rides out his orgasm with sloppy, careless thrusts, pushing back against the fingers still fucking him just as much as into Richard’s warm, wet mouth, filling it with come. His hands tighten around rough, artfully frayed fabric to keep the other close, watching in a haze as Richard swallows around his cock.

  
It’s only when his mind starts to clear again, the last aftershocks fading, and he takes in the mischievous sparkle in Richard’s eyes, the way he is almost smirking around his cock before slowly pulling off, that Aidan realises that, while he has kept quiet during this, he has come with a cry of Richard’s name. Blood rushes to his face, colouring his cheeks a light pink which he can only hope is unnoticeable in the dim light of the trailer.  
At least Richard doesn’t seem to mind, he thinks to himself, watching the other lick his lips and cleaning the last traces of come off them before rising, kissing Aidan deeply, sharing the taste.  
“At least you won’t have to worry about being loud the next time”, he mutters almost amusedly against Aidan’s lips with his voice broken and hoarse from the rough treatment, and if he hadn’t just come, the sound would be enough to make him hard again.

  
Right now, Aidan can’t help but chuckle, letting his hand wander down to Richard’s cock, still hard beneath his pants, and gods, Aidan wants to drop to his knees and let the other fuck his mouth in return.  
There is no time for that, though, not now, after Richard had taken his sweet time teasing and torturing him, so instead he says, “Let me…”  
He’s expected a growl, maybe a low moan, but instead, Richard rocks into the touch and yet shakes his head, leaning in to whisper the full answer into Aidan’s ear. “Not now…I’d rather fuck you to pieces later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt:  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=11266003#t11266003


End file.
